


Perspective

by steak_soda_sucks_at_life



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26929195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steak_soda_sucks_at_life/pseuds/steak_soda_sucks_at_life
Summary: A brief look into Kazuichi Souda's time as a Remnant of Despair.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small, short drabble I typed up :P I promise I can write longer stuff-  
> I love Kaz, and honestly the fact that the whole second game cast had to go through being the remnants of despair breaks my heart  
> also?? Kaz apparently built the DR1 executions sOOOOO

The soft click as one last piece snapped into place, the grease soaked parts splattering some of the dark liquid across the face and chest of the sharp featured man holding the parts. Setting the now completed device onto the table, he sat back on the stool, staring through dulled eyes at the multitude of blueprints and half finished projects, all scattered across the oil stained table. A soft chuckle escaped his barely parted lips, but there was no humor in his voice, the tone only dead and lifeless, a reflection of the shell of a person it had previously been contained within.

The room, while large and echoey, remained deafeningly silent. The sole source of every machine that had been produced for Miss Junko’s use, by her request, and yet it felt so lonely. Only one person had the capabilities of creating these things, and thus he was always left by his lonesome, so utterly and completely detached from reality, yet still so emotional in such a state.

The single dim light above the work table did little to illuminate his tired face and wild hair, desperately in need of a brush, but still so charmingly unique with the bright color and untameable demeanor about it. So much of him had remained the same, while also having changed in such a twisted, gruesome way. All the light had left his eyes, unless one was to count the malicious glint that appeared there every so often. The gloves covering his hands did nothing to hide the horrid scars littering his forearms, half healed, deep cuts and painful looking burns, all untreated and likely dangerous to his health. The man was just, generally unkempt, yet seemed unhindered by the mass of problems that were visible even at a glance.

The expression on his face was unreadable, if not a tad melancholy, as he lifted his creation from the table, standing from the stool and heading for the darker side of the building, where the very small amount of light that managed to reach the area reflected off several structures, large ones made of metal. Despite the lack of light, he had no trouble navigating the area to a space at the back wall, where a large switch was flipped, and the hum of some hidden generator started up, as a huge floodlight suspended from the ceiling flickered on, bathing the area in much brighter light.

Several monstrous structures were rigged up, all partially completed and dirty. But one thing could be certain, each one was an elaborate death trap, all built by literal blood, sweat, and tears, yet not all of them would ever even see the light of day…  
Oh, those unfortunate students, once Miss Junko had her way with them, several would feel the despair he had lovingly built these machines with, all while the others looked on, and would be able to admire the work he had done.  
A motorcycle and a half built spherical cage, a massive hydraulic press, school desks stacked by it, a machine gun, formatted to fire baseballs, of all things...and so many others, all intricately built devices made to end the lives of Ultimates who would find their fate here. 

It seemed that in a matter of seconds, he had placed the completed device in its proper place within one of these horrible creations, one that could potentially never be used. His body was so weak by this point, but he had long since learned to revel in his own misery, using it as a drive to be able to complete everything given to him to do. Practically drowning in the despair of his own making. She’d see...she had to see..! He was worth something! He was useful! She could be proud of her loyal follower..  
Oh, well speak of the devil, her singsong voice finally graced the room, echoing back almost joyously. 

“Oh, my my!” She exclaimed, immediately making a beeline across the room for the disheveled man who stood silently beside the death cage, leaning against it for some form of support. It was some miracle he hadn’t gone unconscious yet, in the brighter light, the dark circles under his eyes making it clear he had not rested in too long. “Aren’t these just DESPAIRINGLY wonderful~” She cooed, trailing a hand along the greasy piston of one machine, promptly wiping off the liquid on the sleeve of her servant’s bright jumpsuit upon approaching him.

All he had to offer in reply was a weak grin, which had at one time been so full of life, so very happy and childlike. Now just a forced recreation of his former innocence, something long lost in the past, never meant to return again. Lady Junko cradled his face, placing one hand under the man’s chin and ensuring his gaze remained on her face, that detestable wide smile plastered on her as if her features had been cut out of plastic. “Oh dear me, you look just spent! Hmm, I suppose a little rest wouldn’t hurt anything..I can’t afford having you drop dead while you’re making all these wonderful things for me! I don’t care what you do with yourself afterwards..but take a nap, m’kay? Then get back to work!”

Her cheery tone only added to the sinking feeling her presence brought, that so very painful feeling of despair that he had grown to seek out, to find ecstasy in, to feel unnatural things in the need for gaining.  
“Oh, and one more thing,”  
He hadn’t hardly noticed her having turned around to leave, but she had looked back upon reaching the door, once more drawing his undivided attention to the one who had taken control of his life. “Would ya tell Kuzuryuu I wanna see him? Thanks darling, I’ll see you later Sodapop~!”  
He couldn’t help but laugh at that ridiculous nickname, as if he were anywhere near being that sweet. No, that part of Kazuichi Souda was gone, only despair remained now, and he couldn’t tell if he felt euphoria...or agony.

I suppose it all depends upon one’s perspective.


End file.
